


Proper Authorisation

by somethingnerdythiswaycomes



Series: Proud Sub Brandon Saad [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Collars, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Face-Fucking, Hair-pulling, Kneeling, M/M, Orgasm Control, Post-Coital Cuddling, Praise Kink, Rimming, Rope Bondage, Teasing, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 13:22:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4181394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingnerdythiswaycomes/pseuds/somethingnerdythiswaycomes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brandon almost smiled when the media asked about players he’d looked up to.  It seemed like they were playing perfectly into his plans to get Jonny going, to get put on his knees when they finally got home.  Jonny didn’t like Brandon going on about how great he was, especially because he felt that was what Doms were meant to do for their subs.  But he really didn’t like hearing Brandon praising other people instead of him.</p><p>Brandon knew Jonny would get him back for it.  Honestly, that was half the fun.</p><p>*Edited to have no mention of Kane*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proper Authorisation

**Author's Note:**

> This glorious, glorious gif set spawned it all: http://somethingnerdythiswaycomes.tumblr.com/post/121281709080/6-10-15-scf-game-4-lightning-blackhawks
> 
> the unsafe sex tag is because they don't use condoms, but they are in a long-term committed relationship, and there are references to using condoms when other people are involved in their sex life.
> 
> I do not represent the real people presented as characters in this fic, nor do I make any claims about what they do in their personal life.

Brandon sat straight in his chair, hair tucked behind his ears and hands in his lap.  He took pride in representing himself well, representing _Jonny_ well, and that meant sitting in the formal posture taught in high school.  He always hung his suit up nicely before games (unlike some people, _Shawsy_ ) so it would be wrinkle-free if he needed it for press after the games.  And of course, no tie, his shirt open two buttons at the top to display the collar at his throat.

He could barely stop himself from reaching up to touch it.  It was nice, supple, double-layered black leather, soft, with a silver buckle at the back, a matching D ring next to it.  Jonny was possessive, Brandon thought fondly, but vaguely apologetic about it; he’d presented a tag with _Jonathan Toews_ etched into the metal to Brandon with a blush on his cheeks.

And, on the inside of the collar, stenciled into the leather, was the Blackhawks Indian head.

Brandon curled his fingers in his lap.  Even if he wanted to touch his collar, run his fingers against the edges, he wouldn’t.  It was an honor – and a privilege, given the dynamicism still rampant in much of the US – that Brandon was even allowed to sit in front of the press.  And he was honored to represent his team and sub hockey players everywhere – daunting as that was – so he knew he needed to play his part.  There were the perpetually uncollared Taylor Halls of the world, the charming and damaged Matt Duchenes.  Brandon didn’t mind showing the league that a sub could be collared by their teammate, their _captain_ , and still score the GWG in a Stanley Cup Final game.  So he sat there and listened to the reporters ask Jonny questions, and listened to Jonny answer all of them.

And then a reporter asked a question of both of them.  Jonny nodded over at Brandon; they’d established the permission to speak as a rule early on in their relationship.

Brandon answered about the team first – as much as he just wanted to talk about how amazing Jonny had been all game, all series, all season, he couldn’t.  The media would treat him like a starry-eyed sub, and not the serious player he was.  He did manage to talk about Jonny, though, and Brandon could feel Jonny stiffening up next to him at the praise.  He did think Jonny was amazing, even before they were dating or on the Hawks together or anything.  Any time he tried to tell Jonny that, how thankful he was for him, his guidance on the ice and in their life together, Jonny brushed it off.  It was harder for him to do that in front of a room of press.

And Brandon almost smiled when the media asked about players he’d looked up to.  It seemed like they were playing perfectly into his plans to get Jonny going, to get put on his knees when they finally got home.  Jonny didn’t like Brandon going on about how great he was, especially because he felt that was what Doms were meant to do for their subs.  But he _really_ didn’t like hearing Brandon praising other people instead of him.

Brandon knew Jonny would get him back for it.  Honestly, that was half the fun.

 

.oOo.

 

“Should I stop letting you speak at pressers?” Jonny asked, as soon as they’d reached his car.  Brandon grinned and held his chin up proudly, before Jonny hooked his fingers in the leather of his collar and jerked him closer.  “Or maybe I shouldn’t let you sit next to me.  I’ll request a pillow for you, next time.”

Brandon licked his lips.  “If you want, Sir.”

Jonny’s eyes narrowed, his face only a few inches from Brandon’s.  “Do I need to take you over my knee, Brandon?”

He could barely suppress a shiver.  Brandon loved it when Jonny pulled him across his lap, and he could only brace himself on Jonny’s thick thighs and wait as Jonny pulled Brandon’s pants down and spanked him.  Sometimes he even made him _count_ , and that made it even harder to stop from coming across Jonny’s lap.

But Brandon knew what Jonny was really asking – if he was acting out, feeling unfulfilled and looking for his Dom’s attention any way he could get it, or if he was just teasing Jonny like he always did.  Brandon was privately glad that Jonny checked in, just to be sure, that he cared _that_ _much_ about Brandon.  Even though he’d been Jonny’s sub for almost two years, it still made his heart swell with affection.

“I’d much rather you let me suck your cock, Sir,” Brandon replied, and licked his lips again.  Jonny told him every time that he loved Brandon’s mouth, holding onto his hair and fucking in while Brandon looked up at him.  The mullet last year had almost ruined their relationship.

Jonny’s eyes were dark in the way that always promised trouble, and his cheeks were pinking up.  Brandon loved him so much.

“We’ll see,” Jonny replied, and let go of his collar.  “Put on your seatbelt.  Then hands on your thighs, and don’t move until I tell you to.”

The unsaid _unless there’s an emergency_ hung between them, another part of their contract that Jonny had wanted.  He was terrified of ordering Brandon to wait for him or stay still and not being able to move, even if there was a fire or anything else that could hurt him, and the escape clause helped to put him at ease.  Which was good, because Brandon _loved_ being made to wait.  He could already feel his cock getting harder in his trousers and they hadn’t even left the parking lot yet.

It was gonna be a tough ride – Jonny was a cautious driver, or as cautious as anyone could be in Chicago.  He didn’t speed through the yellow lights and swerve around people, so it meant more time waiting at red lights and stop signs than Brandon really wanted.

And then – Jesus Christ – Jonny started _talking_.  “I still haven’t decided what I’m gonna do with you,” Jonny said as he made a careful left-hand turn.  It would be conversational if Brandon couldn’t see the smirk on Jonny’s face.  “It’s been a while since I turned your ass red, but we do have practice tomorrow.  But we did order that new fur-lined paddle, it should be a little easier on you.  We could finally break it in.”

Brandon bit his lip and dug his fingers into his thighs.  God, was Jonny gonna do this the whole ride?

“And that was a good alternative you suggested.  I love having your lips around my cock, you know just how to suck me right.  I trained you well, at that.  And you open your throat so well when I want to fuck in, I don’t have to worry about choking you.”

Brandon closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, trying to practice the meditative breathing that Shawsy’d had to learn their rookie year.  But Jonny just kept _going_ , and now with his eyes closed, it was even easier to picture it.

“I’m happy you didn’t get that mullet again, I like being able to grab your hair and keep you just where I want you.  You like having your hair pulled, too, don’t you?”  He didn’t even wait for Brandon’s nod before he continued on.  “You haven’t said anything, but I’ve learned how to read you by now, Brandon.  Whenever I pull hard, tug you down on my cock, you always try to rub up against my leg and get yourself off.”

Brandon squeezed his legs together, hoping that he’d be able to get a little pressure against his cock without clueing Jonny in.  But when they stopped at a light, Jonny glanced over and tsked at him.  “Brandon, legs apart.”

Brandon whined, but spread his legs again, pressing one against the center column and the other against the door.  He slid down in his seat, just a little.

“Now, where was I?” Jonny asked.  This time he seemed to be waiting for a response, because when Brandon said nothing, Jonny sighed.

“Pulling my hair,” Brandon gasped, tilting his head back against the headrest.

“Right.”  The light turned green, and Jonny started forward again.  “I bet you’d like it if I held your hair while I fucked you from behind.  Make you stay up on your hands and knees, my cock inside you while I pull your head back.  Every time you try to move up when I thrust in, it’d feel like I’m pulling even harder.

“Sir,” Brandon moaned, fighting to keep still.  “Sir, please—”

“Please what, Brandon?”

“Can I touch myself _please_?” Brandon turned his head to look at Jonny, trying to get some idea of his answer from his barely-illuminated face.

Jonny shook his head, and chuckled.  “I told you not to move, Brandon.  I think you can wait ten minutes until we get home.”

“ _Ten minutes?_ ” Brandon asked, a little embarrassed about how his voice cracked.  “Sir, I can’t…”

“Yes you can, Brandon.”

“Can you at least stop talking!?”

Jonny hummed, like he was considering it.  At the next light, he reached over to Brandon.  Brandon wasn’t sure if he’d been aiming for his thigh, or if he’d intended to rub gently right over the bulge of his cock in his trousers.  Either way, Brandon moaned and bucked up; Jonny moved his hand as soon as Brandon moved an inch.

“I haven’t fucked you in a while,” Jonny said.  “You always open up so nicely for my fingers.”

Brandon squeezed his eyes shut, and just tried to get through this.  Once they were home, as soon as the door to their house was shut, Jonny was _sure_ to get him off.

 

.oOo.

 

Brandon’s hands were linked behind his back, the way Jonny had instructed him when they got out of the car.  He was a little hurt that Jonny didn’t trust him to listen to orders and not touch himself, but at this point, his cock was starting to _hurt_ and he was thankful for the extra order to keep him in line.

“Go up to the bedroom,” Jonny told him, dropping both their bags by the hall closet.  “Wait there, just like this.”

“Yes, Sir,” Brandon said, and headed up the stairs.  He could handle the stairs with his arms behind him no problem – this wasn’t the first time he’d had to do this, and sometimes he’d even have his arms bound behind him by this point.

He could hear Jonny rummaging around in the closet as he went up the stairs, up until he nudged the bedroom door open with his shoulder and stepped inside.

They’d left the sheets and quilt rumpled this morning, from when Jonny had woken Brandon up with a blowjob and then jerked off onto him.  They’d barely made it in time for morning skate.

But Jonny hadn’t told him to get on the bed, or even kneel on the soft rug at the foot of the bed.  He just stood in the center of the room and turned to the door, waiting for Jonny to come upstairs.

He didn’t have to wait long, which was a relief, but from the look on Jonny’s face when he slid into the bedroom, the waiting wasn’t completely over.

“On your knees,” Jonny told him, and went over to the closet before Brandon had even moved.  He shrugged off his jacket and hung it up, unbuttoned his shirt and hung that up, too.  He undid his belt, the metal buckle jingling, and Brandon whined quietly.  He’d had Jonny take a belt to him before, in the off season.  He kept meaning to ask for it again.  “Not today,” Jonny told him, sliding the belt out of his pant loops and hanging it up.  “Skate tomorrow, remember?”

“Yes, Sir,” Brandon replied, shifting slightly on his knees.

Jonny nodded, still facing the closet, and dropped his pants.  Brandon bit his lip, hard.  Jonny’s skin-tight boxer briefs did him in every time, the way they stretched across his ass and cut off a half-inch above the tan line on his thighs.  _Fuck_.

Jonny stepped out of trousers, carefully folding them and hanging them up, as well.  Jonny never put this much care into putting his clothes away on a normal day.  There were enough suits thrown on the floor and the dresser to prove that.

“I decided what I’m going to do,” Jonny told him, turning around and coming back over to Brandon.  Brandon looked up at him, his back straight and knees carefully spaced.  Jonny smiled and cupped Brandon’s cheek.  Brandon titled his face into Jonny’s hand, smiling softly as Jonny’s thumb rubbed over his cheekbone.

“Mouth open,” Jonny told him quietly.  Brandon dropped his mouth open obediently; Jonny’s thumb slid in right away.  Brandon sucked on it gently, tongue rubbing against his callouses.

“Good,” Jonny said, and used his free hand to tug his briefs down enough to get his cock out.  “You know how I like it.”

Brandon nodded eagerly, opening his mouth wide as Jonny pulled his thumb out.  Jonny’s cock was there before Brandon could miss having something in his mouth, sliding in thick over his tongue and stretching his lips.  Jonny’s hands went to the back of Brandon’s head, just cradling for now, fingers sorting gently through the curls of his hair.

“Just like that,” Jonny murmured as Brandon sucked gently, not trying to take in more than Jonny had given him.  He knew Jonny wouldn’t wait long.

He didn’t.  Jonny pulled back just long enough for Brandon to suck in a breath, then thrust in slowly, until Brandon’s nose was pressed to his stomach.  Brandon moaned around Jonny’s cock, feeling his throat flutter around the head of it.  One of Jonny’s hands pulled tight in Brandon’s hair, right at the base of his skull, pulling him back.

Brandon worked his tongue along Jonny’s shaft as well as he could as he was pulled, then shoved forward again, Jonny’s cock filling him up fast.  He spread his knees wider, keeping his balance as Jonny set up a steady rhythm – pulling Brandon back by his hair and then pushing him back onto his cock.  Brandon kept his mouth open, running his tongue over any part of Jonny’s cock he could, eyes up on Jonny’s face just like Jonny liked.

Jonny’d reached that stage of his arousal when his entire face was bright red, his mouth hanging open as he panted.  Brandon moaned around his cock again, and tried to shuffle forward to press his cock against Jonny’s leg.

“Not yet Brandon,” Jonny panted, tugging hard on his hair.  “I’ll let you know when.”

It made tears spring to Brandon’s eyes, or maybe that was Jonny thrusting deep into his throat again.  He just needed _something_ against his cock, something to rub against before he lost his mind.

“Not yet, not yet,” Jonny kept repeating, thrusting in faster.  Brandon slumped a little in his hold, barely managing to keep his eyes up on Jonny’s face.  If Jonny wanted him to wait, he would wait.  His Dom could use his mouth as long and as hard as he wanted.  Jonny wouldn’t forget about him, wouldn’t leave him hard and aching longer than Jonny knew he could handle.

He could wait, for Jonny.

“That’s it,” Jonny murmured, when he felt Brandon’s mouth fall open wider and his shoulders drop.  “There you go, Brandon.”

Jonny paused, as far down Brandon’s throat as he could get.  Brandon whined, sucking at Jonny’s cock just a little, just the way Jonny liked.  And then Jonny was pulling back, but he hadn’t come yet, and Brandon tried to follow as Jonny took a step back.

A sharp tug on his hair stopped him.

“Stand up,” Jonny told him, letting go of his hair, but keeping a hand on Brandon’s hand as he shifted from his knees to his toes and carefully stood.  “Arms at your sides.”

Brandon let his arms relax and swing down to his sides, letting Jonny pull his jacket and shirt off.

“You’re aching, aren’t you?” Jonny asked quietly, when he started undoing Brandon’s belt.  The bulge of his cock must be pushing the front of his trousers out obscenely, with a wet spot to match.

“Yes, Sir,” Brandon replied, trying to steady his breathing.  Jonny smiled gently and tugged Brandon’s pants and underwear down.

“Kick your shoes off, and get on the bed.”

It took Brandon a second to step on the back of his shoe and pull it off, leaving both under the pile of his clothes.  Brandon could feel Jonny’s gaze searing into his back as he clambered up onto the bed, crawling up towards the headboard.

“On your back.  Hands above your head.”

Brandon flipped over immediately, stretching out on his back and twisting his hands together just under the headboard.  He drew his knees up, spreading his legs wide, and glancing down the length of the bed to Jonny.

Jonny had a hand wrapped around his cock, slowly stroking and, God, it was still gleaming with spit from Brandon’s mouth.  He spread his legs wider.

“Sir,” Brandon sighed, arching his back a little bit.  He was _done_ with waiting, wanted Jonny’s hands on him _now_.

Jonny smiled, and crawled up on the bed after him, bracing himself over Brandon’s body and holding himself carefully away.  Brandon frowned and tried to hook his leg around Jonny’s waist and pull him down, before Jonny delivered a stinging slap to his thigh.  Brandon gasped and bucked up.

“Stay still or I’ll tie you down,” Jonny told him, tugging gently on Brandon’s collar.  Brandon swallowed and nodded, putting his leg back down on the bed.  Jonny smiled, and kissed him.  “Good.”

But then Jonny grabbed a pillow and shoved it under Brandon’s ass, tilting his hips up.  Jonny slid down and settled between Brandon’s thighs, pulling his legs wider apart.  Brandon shivered; there was only one thing that was going to come of this.

Jonny ducked his head and spread Brandon’s ass, running the flat of his tongue over his hole.  Brandon cried out, at Jonny licking over him and at the scratch of Jonny’s beard against his skin.

It was a struggle to stay still, with just little flicks of Jonny’s tongue over his hole, even with Jonny’s hands gripping his thigh and ass tightly.  He needed a hand on his cock, needed a finger or a tongue or a cock inside him, anything more than what Jonny was giving him.

“Sir, please,” Brandon moaned, his toes curling.  “Please!”

Jonny muttered something against his skin, and then screwed his tongue in.  Brandon groaned loudly, and his leg kicked out.  Brandon froze, the heavy weight of failure settling on his chest.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” he panted.  “I’m sorry, sorry, I tried—”

“Brandon,” Jonny said firmly, cutting him off.  Brandon clenched his jaw and stared up at the ceiling.  He didn’t want to know what Jonny looked like, right then, if he was angry or just disappointed.  But Jonny ran his hand gently down Brandon’s thigh, the leg that had moved, and cupped his knee.  “You need a little help?  Is that it?”

“No, I can do it,” Brandon protested, fighting against the urge to look down at him.

“Hey,” Jonny said, leaning up over him.  He hooked a finger under Brandon’s collar, and tugged gently.  “You did so well in the game, and not touching yourself in the car.  You always stopped when I told you to.  I just want to help you listen to me now, too.”

Brandon finally met his eyes.  Jonny looked – gentle, sort of, or at least more gentle than he usually did when he had Brandon spread out under him.  And really, the list of things Brandon could deny Jonny was barely a half-page and locked away in a safe.

Brandon nodded, and Jonny pulled away just enough to grab the coil of bright red rope from next to the bed.

“I’m just going to go around your knees and your thighs, and then up to the headboard,” Jonny told him as he uncoiled the rope.  “Do you want me to tie your hands, too?”

Brandon nodded immediately.  If Jonny was going to tie him down, keep him exactly where he wanted him, then Brandon wanted to feel it all over.

Jonny looped one length of rope around Brandon’s left calf and thigh, winding it around and tying it together in the bend of his knee, leaving a long length of the rope trailing off the edge of the bed.  He did the same to the other leg; Brandon breathed through the feel of the rope cinching around his skin and digging into his muscle.  Then Jonny grabbed the two rope tails and pulled, looping the rope around the wrought iron headboard and then pulling tighter.  Brandon’s legs were pulled up into the air, bent at the knee and spread wide open just how Jonny liked him.  Brandon watched as Jonny tied the rope securely around the iron posts, leaving the tails tied into simple bows.

“Hands,” Jonny said, waiting until Brandon presented his wrists to start wrapping the rope around them in another two column tie.  “To the headboard or your collar?”

Brandon swallowed against the heavy weight of the collar on his throat.  Usually Jonny liked having Brandon stretched out and spread under him, but having his wrists tied up by his throat, his entire body curled in under Jonny—

“Collar, Sir,” Brandon whispered.  Jonny kissed him softly, and carefully turned Brandon’s collar so the buckle and D-ring were at the front.  Jonny looped the crimson rope through the metal ring, pulling gently until Brandon's hands were pressed to his chest, and he could move them barely an inch.

“Comfortable?” Jonny asked, testing the ropes around Brandon’s legs and wrists with a finger between his skin and the soft rope.

“Yes, Sir,” Brandon replied.  Jonny’s hand ran down his stomach; he tried to shift into it, get Jonny’s hand on his cock, and nearly moaned when he couldn’t do more than rock an inch to the side.

“Good,” Jonny murmured, and kissed him again.  Before Brandon could really gather himself to kiss back, Jonny had pulled away and slid down Brandon’s body, until his shoulders were framed by Brandon’s thighs and the coils of red rope.

Brandon bit back a whine when Jonny’s tongue pressed into his hole again.  Jonny loved to make him sloppy and wet with his tongue, open him up as Brandon would shake and try desperately to get _more_.  When Jonny’s tongue speared in, licking through as Brandon’s hole fluttered around it, Brandon could feel tears pricking his eyes.  It wouldn’t be the first time Jonny rimmed him until he cried.  He felt like the _second_ Jonny even breathed over his cock he was going to come, even if Jonny hadn’t said he could, yet.

“Sir,” Brandon moaned, back arching a little as Jonny licked over and over and over his hole.  “Sir!”

“You need my fingers?” Jonny murmured, pressing against Brandon’s legs so he could reach for the lube on the nightstand.  “Need something to clench down on, fill you up?”

“Yes,” Brandon groaned, his head falling back.  “Sir, yes—“

Brandon barely noticed a pause between Jonny licking into him and his finger sliding in, but there must have been one.  He couldn’t be bothered to keep track of things like that at this point.  All that mattered was the rope pressing into his skin and the finger inside him.  And _God_ , Jonny knew how to use his hands.  He knew just how to press in so Brandon’s entrance would give way for him, had known from the first time he’d touched Brandon this way where every sensitive spot was.  Brandon could feel it lighting up in him now – the glide of Jonny’s finger drawing out sparks up and down his spine.  A second finger only made it better.

Brandon couldn’t keep track of everything Jonny was doing to him.  Jonny’s mouth was searing trails over his thighs and his stomach, his fingers pressing in and in.  It was nearly overwhelming, trying to _feel_ everything and catalog it so he wouldn’t ever forget Jonny’s hands and mouth and eyes on his skin – only the knowledge that Jonny was his, that he had the collar to prove it, that he’d get this again and again and again, allowed him to sink into the sensation instead of fixating on every detail.

“Brandon,” Jonny said, leaning up over him, fingers still drilling incessantly inside.

“Sir,” Brandon slurred, slitting his eyes open just enough to see Jonny’s blurry outline.

“No condom today.”

Brandon groaned, and nodded.  Sometimes Jonny would put condoms on one or both of them for quick clean up or, more rarely, if they were being joined by someone else.  But they both preferred going bare – that sense of owning and being owned by being marked with come, having it drip out of Brandon afterward and stick to his thighs…

And Jonny’s fingers pulled out, and his cock slid in.  Brandon whined, throwing his head back against the pillow out of reflex, pulling his hands up as well.  It just felt too _good_ , Jonny’s cock long and slimmer than he had first imagined, sliding in easily and stroking along his prostate immediately, with the perfect aim brought about by long practice.

Most times, Brandon was free to move – he could shove back onto Jonny’s cock, take him deeper, coax Jonny into going faster, rub his own cock against the wall or carpet or bedspread for some friction.  Not this time.  Jonny knelt above him, far enough away that he wouldn’t brush even incidentally against Brandon’s cock.  But the angle that the ropes, the pillow, and Jonny’s hands held Brandon’s hips at meant that every thrust drilled straight into his prostate.  He was close to _tears_ now, with the pressure building and building without having anywhere to go.

“So good for me,” Jonny panted, slamming in faster.  “Fucking perfect sub, everyone can tell, how you listen to me and wait to speak and – fucking – walk a step behind – fuck – Brandon—”

“Sir,” Brandon moaned, using every bit of energy he had to jerk back an inch on Jonny’s cock.  “Please, Sir, can I come?”

“Yeah, Brandon,” Jonny grunted.  “Come on my cock, right now.”

It only took another thrust into his prostate; with a wail, Brandon’s back arched and his toes curled as he came all over his stomach.  He clenched around Jonny’s cock, feeling his rhythm stutter and then stop as Jonny came in a hot rush inside him.

Brandon kept his eyes closed, his head resting back on the pillow.  He could feel the heat of Jonny’s body where he was pressed to Brandon’s legs, but his shoulders and chest were already feeling the chill, now that he’d come.

Jonny pulled out slowly, but he didn’t go far away.  He started with untying Brandon’s wrists first; the knot attaching them to the collar, and then unraveling the double column tie.  He carefully massaged Brandon’s wrists, fingers gently on the woven rope pattern pressed into his skin.  He did the same on Brandon’s legs, untying him efficiently and making sure the circulation was fine and his legs wouldn’t cramp in the night.

“I’m going to get a towel,” Jonny said, pressing a clean hand to Brandon’s chest.

Brandon managed to wrap a hand around Jonny’s wrist.  “Don’t need it,” he muttered.  “I’m just gonna leak out on everything anyway.”

He could feel Jonny’s shiver.

“Fine,” Jonny replied, settling on the bed next to Brandon.  “You’re drinking an entire bottle of Gatorade before I let you sleep, though.”

“Yes, Sir,” Brandon said, sitting up a little.  Jonny pressed the bottle to his lips.  It was blue, Brandon’s favorite.

 

.oOo.

 

Brandon woke up with Jonny curled around him, like normal.  Jonny liked to pretend he didn’t cling in his sleep, but it was a complete lie.  If Brandon wasn’t there when Jonny fell asleep, he’d wind up curled around a pillow or the comforter.  At least, he would, until Brandon climbed into bed, and Jonny gravitated towards him.

Brandon tested his wrists, bending and circling them a few times each, then tried bending his knees.  Everything was the way it should be.

“Did you think I’d hurt you?” Jonny murmured into his neck, once Brandon had settled down again.

“‘Course not,” Brandon replied, pressing back against him.  “Better safe than sorry.”

Jonny hummed, and nuzzled his shoulder.  His arms tightened around Brandon’s waist.  It was a little warm now that Brandon was awake enough to notice it, with Jonny pressed against him and the blanket and quilt over top them.  But he’d wait until it was unbearable to say anything.  He liked having Jonny pressed against him too much to give it up.

“I’m serious, you know,” Brandon said quietly.

“About what?”

“When I tell people how great you are.  I’m not joking around.  You’re the best captain in this league, and a better Dom than I ever thought I’d be able to find.”

Jonny didn’t say anything, just pressed his lips to Brandon’s shoulder.  He didn’t argue, at least.  It was some sort of progress.

**Author's Note:**

> title from the Muse song 'Psycho' (entirely because of the line "your ass belong to me" tbh)
> 
> 12/21 edit: Taylor Hall replaced a mention of Patrick Kane
> 
> (I do intend for there to be more in this 'verse. come talk to me about it)


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